“What do you say?” She pleaded once more with her baby blues, batting her long lashes the way she did when she tried to talk him into something. Like when they were sixteen and had snuck onto a golf course to go ice blocking.
What sort of fools sat on a block of ice while someone pushed them down a grassy hill?
Then again… it had been an interesting physics experiment on friction—’til the cops came. Alex had freaked over an arrest for trespassing marring his record, keeping him out of the honors program at college, for which he’d already been evaluated. But the officer had been cool about the whole thing, since they weren’t drinking or out past curfew. Just having harmless fun instead of being rowdy teenagers.
Lola had dared him to do it again the next week. A dare from Lola Vonn was somehow too appealing to pass up. Making him a bit of a masochist.
But not this time.
With a shake of his head, he said, “You’ll leave water rings on my end tables and put CDs in the wrong cases. That’ll drive me nuts, you know it. I found Beethoven in with the Battlestar Galactica DVD set once. That’s basically sacrilege—it’s the original 1970s series.”
“I promise to use a coaster. And I won’t listen to the CDs or watch DVDs. I have my tablet with iTunes and Netflix. You won’t even know I’m here.”
He continued to hedge. “You don’t exactly blend into the woodwork, Lo.”
She flashed a bright smile again, all straight, pearly white teeth. “You know you can’t resist me. I’ll just wear you down until you say ‘yes,’ so you might as well save us both the time and energy.”
“You make me crazy.”
“But you love me anyway.”
More than you know…
She was right, though. He never could resist her. Whatever Lola wanted…
Long before they’d even heard the catchphrase, she’d embodied that motto—back when she was just seven years old, a fun-loving free spirit with springy blonde curls and that adorable dimple.
“Fine.” He caved. As always.
Throwing her arms around him, she said, “You’re the best. I won’t get in your way, I swear.”
She detangled herself and pulled her suitcase across the room. He followed, hot on her high heels.
“No cooking,” he demanded. “You burn everything. And no emptying the dishwasher—I’ll never figure out where you put my ramekins. And just, well, you know… try not to touch anything.”
“Oh, Alex,” she scoffed with a wave of her manicured hand. “What’s life without a little clusterfuck from time to time?”
Christ. This was going to be a disaster of epic proportions. He knew it already.
Lola went in the direction of his guest bedroom, luckily located on the opposite side of the condo from his room. She wouldn’t exactly be sleeping next door.
As if that would keep him from wanting to crawl into bed with her.
“I’m gonna unpack and take a shower,” she called out. “Long day flying from Baltimore, and I’m practically soaked to the bone. Then some wine and a catch-up?”
More temptation staring him in the face? Best to get the hell out. Regroup.
“Uh, you ought to relax and get some rest,” he insisted.
“Yeah, probably a smart idea,” came her muffled voice. “I want to be in tip-top shape for my first day tomorrow.”
“Good thinking.”
And he needed to get his raging lust under control.
Stopping at the kitchen table, he shut down his laptop and then put away the terrine. He dumped his wine, washed the glass, and returned it to the overhead rack. “I’m going for a beer at Pete’s.”
“Tell him I say hey.”